The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1887-09-04
CHAPTER III.

A few tears fall on this letter, as | fold it
and lay it away with the first. Then l shut
my eyes fmy fire has quite died OUT and call
up pictures from my past. How they troop
before me!-gay ones and sad ones; but one
shining out clear above the rest. A dusky
room; few chairs; table with dark
green cover, and some choice books; high
mantel, decorated with a trailing plant that
hides its baroness; a vase of hyacinths on
stand near the window, and the smell of
violets in the room. A young girl sitting
in the shadows. A slanting sunbeam strays
through a crack in the shutter, and falls on
her hair-yellow hair that looks in the
shimmering light like FURNISHED gold, and
shines out in my picture like an aureola
around the fair face. Such a sweet face it
is! So full of all that is pure and womanly!
So full of all that is brave, and true, and
tenderi Lurking in the corners of the
mouth that have weary droop, there are
proud lines, but no bitterness. The eyes
look wistful, through all their steadfastness,
and all the sadder because they are eyes
that seldom weep.
This is my fourth letter:
, June 4, 1S-
My Dear Jeffrey: How strange to think
of your having been in this very room
week ago! 1t seems like a dream-your
coming to me that evening. 1t was like
you to give up your travels when YOU heard
Il
fused to let you share your fortune with
me, and made you cross. l am always
laundering. | have a haunting fear that
we are not quite as good friends as we
were You are, and still you are not, what
expected to find you. There was reserve
about you that was not like your old self.
That tell you this is proof that l, at least,
am perfectly frank with you. 1 cling so to
old ties. You have always been my best
friend, my bon oopparGde, and, as in your
letter you beg me to continue my condolences,
l am falling again into the old habit. An
other thing that annoyed me a little was
that you did not seem in the least to admire
my friend, DR.. Hawks, but spoke rather
sarcastically of the 'ssaintliness of his bear
ing" Now, that was not kind. But shall
forget it all now that you are absent again.
l have missed you very much. You do not
know, perhaps, how well you talk; how
perfectly you combine the rare gift of elo-
quence with pleasant manners and good
taste. For instance, you tell me of dining
at Lord IS. You say frankly that it was
an accident, as you are simply an American
citizen, with no titles, or other claim to dis
tinctioD. / know that your patrician face
and manners excuse the compliment
marked you as the peer of the proudest of
his guests, especially when introduced by
your distinguished friend, Mr.. - But
you only describe the noblemen present, and
the English customs, and / hear no silly
egotisms such as this: lord - told me
in confidence, that" etc. II told him if he
took my advice etc. / have heard several
learned travellers talk III this style, and |
rather feared it from you. l like your
modesty. Is this too much to say to you!
But, seriously, jeff, you must like DR..
Hawks. / am going TO confess to you, as
usual, but l am not quite sure that this con-
fession will ever fall into your hands 1t
was two days ago. had been unusually
busy, and, when my days work was over,
found it too late to go out alone. | was
tired. That morning l had received letter
from my sister She was married, in the
early spring, to Lynn Wallace, a nephew OF
the lady in whose family she was staying. |
had her with me a month, and then he
came and one morning we went quietly to
the little church beneath whose shadow our
brother sleeps and the solemn words were
said that made them one. We went out
from the church in the sweet sunshine, and
stood together, for a few moments, over
our darling's grave, while the birds sang in
the boughs above US, as If delirious with
Joy: and though tears were in her eyes, /
knew the songs were echoed in her pure
hearth They left me there, and well, no
matter what | did--she was gone and | was
alone once morei But the letter. She said
that her husband wished to offer me posi-
ton which my pride could not find the
shadow of an excuse for refusing. He
wanted me to take charge of his business
correspondence. He hod found IL necessary
to have some one, and they wanted no one
but me. / smiled when l had finished the
long letter, SO full OF pleading, and of the
necessity Of my going at once. lt was
tempting. But alasl the pleasant work
must be done by other hands than mine.
Nothing sirer than That. could not leave
Edith here alone. My duty lay plain be
window, IN the cleaning, watching the
clouds-heavy and dark they wcrc--drift-
ing wildly and purposelessly through the
amber glow Of tie sunset Like my life,